Seventeen Days (12 page)

After what seems like an hour but has only been maybe five minutes, she finally lets go. 

“Can I stay here for the night? I … I … can’t go back there tonight. Can’t see her again. Not tonight.” She’s all but pleading with me to stay. 

She wants to stay here? With me? Alone? In my house?

“You’re always welcome here, Morgan. Always. I’ll crash on the couch; you can have my bed. Would you like to lie down now, or tell me what’s happened first?” I ask.

“Will you lie down with me? At least for a little while. Please?” This time she truly is pleading. Hell, I can’t tell her no. It’s then she notices my lack of clothing. “But could you maybe put a pair of pants on?” 

“Anything you want, babe. Follow me.” Grabbing her hand, I lead her back to my bedroom. I’ve seen her here in my dreams what seems like a hundred times but she was never upset when she came here. Imagining her hair spread over my pillow is one of my favorite fantasies. 

Letting go of her hand, I grab a pair of sweats and quickly pull them on. Motioning to the bed, I say, “Lie down, wherever you like, I’ll follow you.” 

Pausing to take off her sandals, she briefly hesitates. 

“I’ve thought about being in a bed with you, but not only for you to hold me.” Her confession makes me instantly hard. Cursing at myself eternally before answering, I tell her, “So have I, babe. So have I.” 

If she only knew how many times. Which is pathetic if you think about it. I’ve known her for a few short days but have pictured her here at least a hundred times. 

Turning down the covers, she crawls into my bed. Claiming the middle, I quickly follow her in. Grabbing her around the waist and pulling her tiny body flush to mine. Once her breathing starts to even out, I ask her what’s wrong again. 

“If you don’t want to talk about it, we don’t have to. I’ll hold you all night. I’m here, though, if you want to talk it through.” 

Grabbing my hand that’s resting on her stomach, she easily threads her fingers through mine. 

“She wanted me, Harrison. And she knows my father. Like in the present tense,
knows
him.” Her mother? No, she was supposed to talk to her aunt, she can only mean Savannah. 

“Savannah wanted you? When? As a baby? Did she tell you who your father is?” 

Her breathing starts to get choppy again, reminding me of the ocean waves when a storm is brewing. 

“Yes, as a baby. She asked Sienna for me before I was ever born. Obviously, she was turned down. And no, I didn’t give her a chance to. I sort of ran from the truck before she fully stopped it. I needed you. Your arms, your strength.” She sought me out when she needed comfort, that makes my chest hurt, causes my heart to swell. I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but damn if I didn’t just start to fall in love with her. No one has ever sought me out for comfort. For her to trust in me so much already shows me so much about her feelings toward me.

Placing a kiss on her temple, I squeeze her fingers. It’s my only reply to her and the only one she seems to need. She doesn’t talk anymore, and soon her cries have quieted again and are replaced by the sounds of her sleeping. My poor beautiful girl has exhausted herself. 

Once she’s sleeping deeply enough, I slip from the bed and go in search of something to eat. Knowing she didn’t eat either, I scramble up a few eggs and fry up a package of bacon. She can eat whenever she wakes up. Being a bachelor, I don’t know how to make much in the kitchen. Sadly, eggs are my one and only specialty. 

Dog comes bumbling into the kitchen in search of whatever scraps he can get. I know it’s bad for him but I’ll toss the leftover bacon grease over top of his kibble. He’s old and deserves the treat. Not knowing how many eggs she’ll eat, I scrambled up a whole dozen. She sure can eat; she proved that over dinner last night. I’ve never seen a person eat so many onion rings in one sitting. Let alone a woman as slight as Red.

As I’m washing up the dishes, I hear her come into the kitchen. Her quiet footfalls echo loudly on the hardwood floors. 

“You have a few eggs and bacon on a plate in the microwave. If you want to eat them now, it’s still hot.” 

Walking by Dog, she pats him on the head as she passes. “He’s cute. What’s his name? He doesn’t look like he wants to kill me in my sleep like Mac does. I feel like that dog silently judges every little thing I do.”

So that's why she doesn’t like Mac much, she thinks he’s judging her. The poor bastard. 

“Dog.” 

“You named your dog, Dog? The poor thing.” She reaches down to pet him again—he’s putty in her hands. 

“Hey, I was eight I think when we got him. I wasn’t exactly what you’d call creative in my younger years. Dog seemed to fit him fine. And he’s never complained.” 

“Well, I’m going to call him Rusty Sprockets. Cause he’s old now and needs a bomb ass name. Clearly, his owner didn’t think of a good one.” I’m loving how she feels good enough to tease me, and her cries have stopped. 

“Babe, what makes you think
that
is a ‘bomb ass name’? And where in the hell did you come up with Rusty Sprockets, do I even want to know?” I could see maybe Rusty, since he’s reddish brown in color.

“It is in fact a bomb ass name. Did you ever watch the cartoon
The Jetsons
while growing up? Wasn’t the place where George worked called something Sprockets?” she asks.

“Number one, completely random. Number two, you watched that cartoon? Number three, you’re so fucking cute.” 

Shit, I called her cute. She’s going to have my balls for that. 

“Okay, buster. Yes, I can be random. Yes, I watched the show, it was awesome. And I’m not cute, I’m fucking badass. Just because I cried tonight doesn’t mean you can call me
cute
. Sexy. Feisty. Spitfire. Red.
Those
you can call me but never cute.” Mumbling to herself, she says, “I’m not cute. Where the hell did he get cute from? Maybe I should take my food and Rusty Sprockets and head out the damn back door.” 

“What was that, babe? I didn’t quite hear you? Are you talking to yourself?” I may be egging her on, but I don’t give a shit. I love it when she’s feisty. 

“Yes, I
was
talking to myself. I’m going to steal Rusty, my food, and be on my way now. Thanks for the shoulder and shit. See you at work tomorrow. Come on, R.S., let’s blow this popsicle stand. Do you happen to know the way to Mac’s house? Cause I’ll need you to be a man and lead the way, ol’ boy.” 

She doesn’t make it five feet away before I grab her and pull her to me. Her back is flush to my front. “You’re not going anywhere, Morgan. You’re staying right here. All night. Dog didn’t move an inch. So it’s a good thing I know where his loyalties lie. Guess he doesn’t like his new bomb ass name or he’s smart enough to know I wouldn’t let you leave.” 

She takes a huge breath and mumbles to herself again, “Fine, your bed is super comfy anyway.”

Guess I won another round. 

“Good. Now eat up and let’s go lie down. We can talk, sleep, or make-out.” Wiggling my eyebrows up and down, she knows which of those options I choose. What can I say, I’m a man. I’ll always choose making out over any of those options. But if she wants to open up more to me, she can. I want to be here for her. Maybe forever.

“You’re horrible, Harrison. Horrible.” 

Baby, we’ve only begun.

“Mm … make the buzzing stop already,” She’s knocking anything she can reach off of my end table. Too bad she’s on the wrong side—she’ll never get the buzzing to cease. 

“If you ignore it long enough, we can pretend it never went off. Thad can run the small tour on his own or go with Gentry and let Steve take the smaller one out. You and me should keep ignoring the alarm clock and sleep. Get back over here and cuddle me, woman.” 

She doesn’t put up much of a fight after I pull her back down into my arms. Mm. Warm woman first thing in the morning. Can it get any better than this? Hardly.

She doesn’t allow me much cuddle time before I feel her elbow jab into my stomach. “Ow. What was that for?” Rubbing my stomach, I whine, “You have sharp elbows.” 

“Aw, do you want to me kiss it and make it better?” Um, hell yeah I do. Before I can answer, she’s off the bed and searching all over the place for my phone alarm clock. She’ll never find it; it’s in the bathroom. 

“Bingo. Found the stupid asshole. If it wasn’t your phone, I’d kill it. Smash it into a thousand minuscule pieces. He deserves to die a horrible miserable death.” 

Smiling at her as she climbs back into bed, she leans down and presses a quick kiss to my lips. 

“Since your alarm clock so rudely awoke us, we better get a move on it. Just because I
slept
with my boss last night, you shouldn’t give me any extra favors. Up and at ‘em, Captain.” 

Before I can fully turn to my side, she’s out the door and back into the bathroom. Who has this much energy in the morning? It’s not even five minutes past six. 

Crazy woman. 

We we’re up till nearly 1 AM talking. Getting to know one another. She never brought up the subject of her father again. 

Though I took one last night, a shower sounds like a wonderful idea. A shower including Morgan would be even nicer. Too bad it’ll never happen. All I can offer her are my kisses. That’ll have to be enough for the both of us. Tangling up any further will only hurt us both in …
twelve days
. 

Realizing how limited the time is we truly do have left together and knowing she
has
to talk to her aunt sooner rather than later, I make the decision for both of us.

While I’m dialing Steve’s number, Morgan comes back into the bedroom, freshly showered. “Who are you calling this early? Or should I say attempting to call?” she asks. 

Voicemail. Guess I’ll have to call Thad to have him take over since Steve didn’t pick up. 

“Hey, Steve, it’s Harrison. Was calling to let you know plans for the day have changed. You’ll take out the four-hour group alone. I’ll be calling Thad next. Him and Gentry can take out the larger group. If you have any issues, give me a call.” I don’t answer Morgan since she clearly heard who I was calling.

When I start to dial Thad’s number, she takes a seat on the bed. “Are you making plans to not work today, boss? That’s cool, you probably need a day off. But can you drop me off at the office at least? Since I don’t feel like seeing my aunt for her to take me.”
Unbeknownst to you, you’re playing hooky today too, sweetness.
 

“Let me make this last call and I’ll tell you everything.” Giving her a slight wink, I continue to try and reach Thad. 

He answers on the second ring, “What’s up boss?” 

Taking a moment to explain to him the message I left for Steve, he agrees to take care of things at the office. “Oh, one more thing. Can you please not switch the answering machine off? Morgan won’t be in today, either. Thanks, man.” 

Hanging up, I glance over at Morgan. Shit. She’s pissed. I know she loves to make decisions on her own but I’ve seen the look she gives me when I take charge and take care of her too. She likes me all possessive. 

“Why did you give us the day off? I thought you were joking because you wanted more sleep.” 

Reaching out, I grab a piece of her wet hair and start to wind it around my finger. “While you were in the shower, I made a few decisions. Knowing you’d never make them for yourself, you’ll probably hate me, but I started putting those plans in motion by giving us the day off. We have the next two off anyway. Making it a three-day weekend will do us both good.” 

“Um. Okay. But I still don’t understand why you did. What are these decisions that you speak of? Am I going to need coffee to have this conversation? A knife? Rusty Sprockets by my side waiting to take you out?”

Still can’t believe she tried to rename my dog.
 

“Coffee sounds good. Follow me, and I’ll start a pot—we can start to talk while it brews.” 

Hopefully she won’t toss her mug of hot coffee at me once she finds out what I want to do today. 

Setting out mugs and starting the coffee, I stay oddly quiet. I can tell it’s killing her not to ask what the fuck is going on, again. She knows me well enough by now to know that I’ll start talking on my own. 

“I think you should talk to Savannah today. Now, before you get all pissed and run away, hear me out.” Turning around to meet her gaze, I continue, “What you told me last night was only the basics, and I didn’t press you for more. One day when you’re ready, you’ll tell me everything. And I can wait, but who can’t wait is Savannah. She’s waited eighteen years to be able to say these things to you. If you’d like me there when you attempt to make amends, I can be. As cushion for you
both.
I’m not going to pick sides. Know right now, I won’t choose you over her or vice versa. I’m Switzerland when it comes to whose team I’m on.” 

“Holy shit, did you
Twilight
me?” 

Huh? What the hell is she talking about? 

“You know those books about falling in love with vampires. Werewolves too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. You totally
Twilight
-ed the hell outta me.”

She’s thinking I read a fucking book about vampires falling in love? Fuck that. Nope, not for me. If it was written by Stephen King, maybe. But he’d never write anything chick-flick worthy. Give me
Pet Cemetery
and a few beers, and I’m good.